Secretly Blood
by The Corrupted Typer
Summary: A blood elf and a high elf... family, in a time where the war urges them on to kill. There blood runs deep, but there is nothing they can do to stop what goes on between the horde and alliance. But a new hope arises for them, a chance for them to be family once again.
1. Arrival and awaiting

_Blood Elf_

Velectra seemed like any other blood elf. She was a fighter, a rogue to be specific, she seeks redemption for her people and what happened to them when the lich king attacked, and she is loyal to the horde and its rulers. But she wasn't. She, like the rest of her family, had a secret. A secret that she shared with someone else, who was far away at the moment.

She stepped of the zeppelin and onto the land known as Northrend. She was going to the same place she went every year, Dalaran. There she would meet with the secret that her family kept. She walked onto the boarding deck just as the horn blew that told everyone that the zeppelin had arrived. Members of the horde rushed past her, but she took her time to see just how much Vengeance landing had changed.

She of course noticed how most of the people there were forsaken. She didn't mind them; they just reminded her of a time she didn't want to remember. She had been eighteen years old when the scourge had attacked her people, and she remembered it vividly. She had fought in the battle, but she wasn't very good since she was an apprentice rogue back then.

She shook the thoughts out of her head and focused on where she had to go. She was going to Dalaran, just as usual. She moved forward and began to descend down the stairs and out of the zeppelin tower.

As she did she noticed just how much the forsaken had changed the place. It looked… quite undead. The wood looked rotted and there were rats running around the place, and there many undead running about.

Velectra didn't dislike them; she just thought their way of life was very… appalling. She was a blood elf, she lived with manners and structure, and she wasn't used to the style of life the forsaken had become accustom to.

She walked out of the tower and began to look for an inn. She was very tired; she had traveled all the way from Silvermoon on a hawkstrider to undercity where she had gotten on the zeppelin to Vengeance landing, which was a week-long trip. And it didn't help that she had gotten sick during the flight.

As she walked through the outpost she passed many undead, and she couldn't help but want to gag. She had tried to like them, she really had, but she just couldn't. Not after the scourge, not after the corruption of the sunwell which led to great devastation of her family, which was now broken.

The scourge invasion had unabatedly shattered her family, and she was left with only her father back in Silvermoon. She was sad, but not as sad as the other families who had really lost their loved ones, the families that could never see their relatives again. She could, but at the same time she couldn't, which made her life extremely hard.

She sighed and pushed the thoughts out of her head. She neared the inn and began to feel relief. She could rest, recover, and then get a horse to take her to the town closest to Dalaran. Then she would take the flight to Dalaran. She wanted to be as discreet as possible, that's why she was going on horseback. She didn't want to speak with any one, and then they would know where she was going which she would not allow.

No one outside of her family knew of the secret, and she would make sure that it stayed that way. She had guarded it ever since the corruption of the sunwell, and she would continue to guard it for as long as she was supposed to. She hadn't planned on, but things in her family changed, so this was her fate.

She walked through the door into the inn and was greeted by loud talking and music from somewhere in the room. She was shocked by this, since it was an undead inn and they were usually more subtle, but she realized that there were a lot of people there. There were mostly orcs and tauren, a few blood elves and undead, and one or two goblins.

They seemed to all be in the same group, and Velectra began to wonder why they were there. Not many people stayed in Vengeance landing besides to get to Northrend and travel where they really wanted to go. But these people seemed to have some sort of reason for being there, and Velectra wanted to know what it was.

But she needed to rest first, and then she would think about what they were there for. She walked over to the innkeeper, a hunched over undead with a hearthstone, and he looked up at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Yes?" he asked in a voice that what extremely rough and worn.

"I would like a room in the inn." said Velectra.

The inn keeper thought for a few moments and then asked "How many nights?"

"Only tonight." said Velectra.

"Fifty silver." said the man.

Velectra brushed her long black hair out of her face and sighed, then pulled a pouch off of her belt that jingled slightly with money. She opened it up and pulled out the amount required and handed it to the man.

The man grunted, counted out the coins and put them in his pocket. When he was done he looked up and said "You have the first room on the left. Dinner and breakfast costs 10 silver each, and we don't offer room service, so if you make a mess you're on your own."

Velectra nodded and the man took a key off of his belt and handed it to her. She took the key and headed up the stairs to her left. She carried only one bag, which was a small black one she carried by the handle. She walked up the stairs as if the bag weighed no less than a feather, and she turned into the rotted wood hallway full of rooms.

She turned to the first room on the left and put her bag down to fumble with the lock. It opened with a slight click and she grabbed her bag and pushed the door open. It creaked on its hinged and she walked in, with her black leather boots clacking on the floor.

She put her bag down next to the door and began to examine her room. The room was bland and dull, with bleached floor boards and walls with fading green wallpaper. There was a window in the back of the room that showed the dull gray sky and a part of the mountain, as well as the sea far below.

"At least the bed isn't a coffin." she mumbled.

She walked over to the bed, which was wooden with two dust covered pillows and an old rag of a purple blanket, and sat down on it. A curtain of dust went around Velectra's face and the springs creaked. She coughed and began to wave the dust out of her face.

Once she could breathe again she said "Figures. Yes, this is an undead inn."

She stood, yanked the blanket off of the bed and began to shake it clean. Another blanket of dust, bigger than the first, came off. Velectra coughed again and tossed the blanket onto the floor.

"I'd rather sleep without a blanket than risk getting bed bugs." she mumbled.

She looked back at the bare bed to see an old stained white sheet in the place of where the blanket used to be. She sighed, and tore it off as well. She tossed it into the pile with the blanket and began to inspect the rest of the bed. The mattress was generally clean, and she saw that the pillows also looked clean enough.

She grinned, happy that she wouldn't be sleeping on the floor again. It was hard to find a good undead inn if you weren't undead because they were made for the comforts of the undead, not the other mortal races of the horde.

She walked away from the bed and over to the window. She looked out over the gloomy landscape. Tomorrow she would be traveling over that, on a skeletal horse. She hoped that the weather would be okay and that it wouldn't rain like the last time she had traveled on that route.

She heard footsteps by her door and she instinctively grabbed the dagger that hung by her belt. It was an instinct that she was glad for, it had helped her in the past.

The footsteps stopped and she heard a male voice say "A bit unused to the undead housings, I see."

She quickly pulled out her dagger and turned, in the perfect position to throw her dagger. The man at her door was a male blood elf, tall but so was Velectra, with long blonde hair and a red cloak that covered the rest of his armor.

The man raised his eyebrows, in what seemed to be sarcastic shock and asked "A rogue, I see?"

Velectra said nothing only tightened her grip on her dagger.

The man sighed and said "Feisty. I see. I'd thought I'd get more respect from a fellow elf."

Velectra laughed and said "Being an elf means nothing to me. Anyone can betray someone."

"Wise words," said the man as he stepped forward "May I ask how you learned such a lesson."

Velectra spit and said "You'd wish. I'm not tricked by senseless _flirting _elf, or should I say, _high elf_?"

The man began to gasp, but stopped himself and asked "How'd you- it doesn't matter. Yes, I'm a high elf. But that's not why I'm here."

The man stepped forward so that he was face to face with her and pulled her arm with the dagger in it down, and smiled down at her.

"I am a member of the argent crusade I'm a recruiter, actually. We've been watching you, and we would like to ask you to join." he said.

He stroked some of the black hair out of her face and she smiled back at him.

"What a generous offer, elf," she said softly. But she quickly changed her tone to a venomous hiss and glared at him and put her knife to his throat saying "Don't flirt with me, elf! I'm no idiot, and I don't want any part of your silly crusade! Now get out! I don't want to see your face near this room ever again!"

The man stepped back, obviously shocked, and walked out of the room.

"And close the door!" hissed Velectra.

He did, and she quickly pranced over to it and locked it. She sighed, and hid the key in one of the pouches on her belt loop. It was obvious to her at what he had done. He had used magic to change his eye color from blue to green, but she wasn't a fool. She kicked off her shoes and walked over to her bed, forgetting about dinner and taking a long needed nap.

_High Elf_

Anara was a proud member of the high elves, a "pure" elf, or so she said. She was walking through the city of Dalaran, not caring about a thing in the world. She was dressed in her white paladin armor that she wore on the days she wasn't out on missions. She was smiling, extremely happy because of who would be visiting her in a few days.

She, just like the rest of her family, had a secret. A very large secret, which they wanted no one outside of their family to know of. They had kept it ever since the corruption of the sunwell, when she and some of her family members left of the rest of their people so they wouldn't be using arcane magic's. Some days she wished she hadn't, but she ultimately was glad she had made the decision. It had made her feel like she was doing the right thing, which usually meant she was.

She walked down the cobblestone streets towards her home with a smile on her face. She only got to visit the person once a year and they both thought that this was not enough. She sighed, beginning to feel sad about how her family had been so abruptly shattered after the corruption of the sunwell.

She remembered the sunny warm days she had spent in the high eleven city. She closed her eyes and could feel the warm summer breeze on her face and smelled the inviting fragrance of the flowers that grew all around the city.

She opened her eyes and sighed, those days ended a long time ago, and they were left behind by Anara. She looked up to see that the light was fading and that the stars were beginning to show in the darkening sky. She walked a little quicker. She would have to be home before dark, to discuss things with her mother. They had a lot to discuss, and only a little time to discuss it.

But first she would have to stop at some shops and get a few supplies. She needed to get them for her mother, who would be going on a trip of her own in a few days. She wiped a strand of her long blonde hair out of her face and turned the corner. She was now on the street with most of the shops, and it was a bit crowded for a night.

The lanterns were just beginning to come on, and the street began to light up. Anara recited the list of things she needed in her head: Bags, journal, ink, pen, food for travel, and a water skin. She pulled a pouch off her pelt that jingled with coins and held it close to her side.

She would get the food first. She walked down the crowded street until she came to a food shop. It was a small dome building with a small set of white stairs leading to two opened double doors. She walked up the stairs and walked into the building, and was immediately greeted by a wall of sweet scents of fruits and the meaty scents of dried jerky.

There was a small high elf woman sitting at the counter sorting through papers. Anara turned and walked over to a shelf full of dried meats. She grabbed a handful of dried jerky and some preserved ham. She walked over to the next shelf, which was full of fruit, and picked up some apples, pears, and a few oranges.

Once she had everything, she walked over to the counter and plopped the stuff on top of it. The woman looked at the items, thought for a few moments and then looked up at Anara again.

"Two gold." she said, in a tone that betrayed how much she really didn't care.

Anara ignored her tone and opened up her coin pouch. She thumbed around until she found two gold pieces and took them out and handed them to the woman. She took them and studied them for a few seconds until she took a pouch on her belt and plopped the two coins in it.

She put the pouch away and said "Very well. You may take your items."

Anara gathered them up in her arms and said a fast thank you before rushing out the door. She looked up to see the moon shining bright, and she decided that she would finish the shopping the following day.

She turned and headed up the street, out of the slowly emptying shopping street. It was night time, and she didn't want to be out at that time. She didn't know why, but the night time just made her feel uncomfortable. So she naturally liked to be inside at those times.

She strolled down the street, humming to herself, towards her home. Her home was near the center of Dalaran. It was a small two story, but Anara liked it. She only shared it with her mother, who had no income to buy her own house.

Anara turned again and began to walk down the street that her house was on. Her house was a corner house, which she liked because she could look out any of the windows and see most of the street. She walked up to her tiny house and turned down the path leading up to her door.

Her house was white with a green roof, with a small yard surrounding it. There was a large tree full of green leaves that covered most of the left side of the house. There were also many flowers, mostly red and white, near her house. She sighed happily; glad to be back to her cozy little home. She strolled down the path while struggling to get the key out of her pocket with the one free hand she had.

She arrived at the door and struggled to get the key into the lock. She got it in then turned it, and finally pushed it open once she heard the lock click open. She walked into a white walled hallway with white floors as well. She walked down the hall into another room that had a table in the middle of it and a fire pit for cooking not far from it. She plopped all of her groceries onto the table and looked around for a match to light the candles with. She found one on the table and began to light the candles which were mounted on the wall. Once they were all lit she went over to the fire pit and chucked the match in. It lit quickly and the fire roared and crackled.

The sound and warmth from the fire comforted Anara, and she pulled out the chair closest to the fire and sat down. She let the warmth flow in through her armor and began to smile in happiness. It had been a while since she had enjoyed such comfort in her home, and she enjoyed it a lot.

She sighed as she heard the front door open and shut, and then she heard footsteps clacking on the hard floor.

"Great," she thought "Mother's home."


	2. A troubling night

_Blood Elf_

Velectra awoke to the sound of yelling and cheering coming from downstairs. She groaned, and slowly began to sit up in her bed. She looked out the window to see that it was dark outside, and she guessed that the noise was coming from the bar. The cheering got louder, and she realized that there was no way she could go back to sleep with that going on. So she decided she would take a look for herself and see what was really going on.

She stumbled out of bed and clumsily searched for a match to light the candles with. It was pitch black in her room, and she continuously tripped over random things that were lying on the floor. She groaned as she tripped over her bag, and slowly sat up on the floor. She dug through the pockets, searching for the familiar shape and feel of a match, but without success.

She knew she had brought some, she just couldn't remember where in her bag she had put them. She dug even deeper, causing her hand to heart from being rubbed against her tightly packed clothes. She winced as she cut herself on one of her blades, but continued to search. Finally her hand wrapped around a small twig and she quickly pulled it out.

It was indeed a match, and she ran over to the candle that lay on the window sill and quickly lit it. A wavering light covered the room, and Velectra blew out the match and tossed it on the floor. She stomped on it a few times to ensure that it was out, and went back over to her bag.

She was still wearing her black and red leather armor, and she stayed in it. But now she was searching for a brush, because she was certain that her hair was tangled after sleeping. As she searched she rubbed her right hand against something, causing a surge of pain to run up her arm. She winced and examined her hand.

On the back of her head was a long cut, where blood was flowing out in great amounts. The cut didn't look very deep, but Velectra could tell that it was a bad one. She frantically searched through her bag for some bandages with her spare hand, and yanked out a long white strip of linen.

She held one end in her mouth and then began to wrap the linen around the cut with her spare hand. She wrapped it up quickly and tightly and took the other end out of her mouth to wrap it up for good. She looked down at her hand again and saw only a little blood coming through the bandage. She moved it a little bit but found it hard to since her hand was wrapped up so tightly.

She sighed in relief, her hand would be fine. She had experienced far greater injuries, but with them she had learned to be careful with even the slightest cut or gash. Once she was done celebrating over her hand, she went back to the task of searching for her brush. She used her unharmed left hand and began to dig through the bag.

Soon her hand came around a wooden handle and she grasped it tightly and pulled it out. She was right, it was her hairbrush. She sighed in relief and stood up; beginning to run the brush through her slightly tangled hair. She was quick and swift, and her hair met her satisfactory level in only a minute.

She flung her black her out of her face and knelt down to put the brush back in her bag. Once it was shoved deep in her bag she carefully began to search for her daggers, making sure not to cut her other hand. She dug deep into the bag and finally found the two blades stacked on top of each other at the bottom of the bag.

She took them both by the handles and stood up, holding them so that the steel glinted in the candle light. She smiled, remembering all the battles in which her blade had been, wetted. It was a grim and morbid happiness, but it was still happiness, and there wasn't much of that left in Velectra. Her happiness had been drained from her long ago, in a time she wished she could forget.

She put the daggers on her belt and rummaged through her bags again for her black cloak. She didn't want anyone to see her face, the less they knew about her, the better. She just wanted to know what was going on. She just hoped she didn't see the high elf from earlier, and hoped even more that he didn't see her.

She found her cloak and yanked it out, then wrapped it around herself and covered her pale face with the hood. She walked over to the door, her black boots clacking on the floor, and pulled it open. It creaked on its hinges, and she walked out. She closed the door behind her and swiftly locked it, then began to go down the hall.

The noise got even louder as she got to the stairs, and she slowly ascended them with grace. She held her head high as she walked down, and some of the people in the room turned to stare. She looked around to see many members of the horde, all male, yelling and screaming as they slowly got drunk. She noticed they were mostly orcs, along with a few trolls and blood elves.

They were all sitting at the tables, drinking some strong beverage, and Velectra wrinkled her nose in disgust as the strong scent of liquor came by her. She walked up to the bar where there were less people and sat down next to an orc.

The bartender was an undead, of course, and he hobbled over to the counter in front of her. He was slouching so much that is short mucus colored hair covered his face, and Velectra had to hold back from vomiting.

"What would you like?" he asked in an extremely raspy voice.

Velectra thought for a few moments and then said "Do you have the sunwell's delight?"

The man shook his head and said "This is an undead town; we don't carry blood elf products."

Velectra sighed, she didn't drink much and what she did drink was usually very rare in the inns. As she was thinking she heard footsteps walking towards her and she peered out of the corner of her eye to see who it was. A moment later a young blood elf man appeared at the counter, and he looked strangely familiar to Velectra.

"A cup of mead for the lady, and a glass of port for myself." said the man, as he tossed a few silver coins on the counter.

Velectra sat up high and stared straight at the man as she said "Excuse me? I believe I can buy my own beer, and who are you to come up to me and act as such?"

The man raised an eyebrow and said "Fine, if you don't want the beer, you can just pay for yourself"

The orc next to them turned his head towards them and said "If she doesn't want it, I'll take it!"

"Now wait, are you buying three beers, or two?" asked the undead bartender.

The blood elf shook his head and said "No, no, no, just a port for myself and a mead for the girl."

"Now wait a second, I already told you, I can pay for myself! And I'm not a girl, I'm a woman!" snapped Velectra.

The undead bartender sighed and said "So are you getting two beers, or no?"

The blood elf looked at Velectra and said "Hard to please I see. Fine, Just a port for me then."

The undead nodded and Velectra added "And I'll have mead."

The undead nodded again and set off at the bar. The blood elf sighed and sat down in the empty seat next to Velectra on her left. He took one look at her and sighed.

Velectra snickered under her hood said "Upset that your flirting attempt failed?"

The elf smiled and said "Sure. But I have to say, you're quite hard to win."

Velectra shook her head and said "There is no 'Winning' me; I am not a prize to be won."

"I see," said the man "You're not one of the regular civilian girls; you're a fighter, aren't you?"

Velectra smiled and said "Yes."

"What kind?" asked the man.

Velectra snickered and said "Wouldn't you like to know."

The man huffed and said "So you're not going to tell me."

"Enemies are everywhere, how do I know if you're not one?" asked Velectra.

"Wise words," said the man "Coming from someone of your age."

Velectra snorted and said "Age is but a number. Wisdom comes from tragedy and experience, something I have a lot of."

"Sounds sad," said the man "Came from the war, right?"

"If you mean the lich king, then yes, it was that." said Velectra.

"I lost an uncle to the war, but we weren't very close." said the man.

"I didn't lose my family," said Velectra "We were just shattered."

The man looked like he wanted to ask more, but he stayed silent. The bartender plopped Velectra's jug of mead in front of her, and she gladly sipped away at the alcoholic beverage.

_High Elf_

Anara sighed, and braced herself for the sure criticism she would receive from her mother for not getting all of the supplies she would need for her trip. Her mother had always been like that, ever since she was a little girl. She had been the parent who enforced ridicule and manners, and who didn't allow mistakes to go by unnoticed and without proper punishment.

And sure enough, a short high elf woman emerged into the kitchen, her light blonde hair wrapped up tightly in a bun. She was thin and beautiful, like any high elf woman, but she began to show the wrinkles of age that inevitably marked any elf.

She was wearing a white mage robe that made her appear to be a ghost with her extremely pale skin. She carried nothing but a long old wooden staff, which looked as if it would snap in half at any second. But it didn't, and the woman walked forward so that she stood in front of her daughter.

She sighed and, in a voice warren with age, asked "Did you get everything for my trip?"

Anara shook her head and said "No."

Her mother sighed and said "Is it really that hard to go out and buy supplies? I need them for my trip, and it looks as if I'll have to go out and buy them myself tomorrow! Nothing ever gets done around here unless I do it myself!"

"I'm sorry mother!" exclaimed Anara "You didn't give me enough time to get everything, and all I could get was the food before it got too dark."

"So it's my entire fault?" asked her mother "I didn't give you enough time, so it's my fault that you didn't complete your task? Didn't I ever teach you anything!?"

Anara sighed in frustration and snapped "Well, maybe it is your fault! You always pressure me like this, and over groceries!"

"I can't believe you!" said her mother "I am your only parent, and you disrespect me so!"

"Disrespect you?!" exclaimed Anara "You disrespect me! You treat me like a child in my own home!"

"That's because you're acting like one!" exclaimed her mother "What do you expect me to do? Forget that you were unable to complete such a simple task as getting supplies from the market that's right down the street?"

"This is my home, and I will not be insulted as such, especially someone who only has a home because she lives with me!" exclaimed Anara.

"How dare you!?" exclaimed her mother "What are you going to do then, Anara, kick your own mother out of your home?"

"Don't threaten me!" warned Anara "You've always been like this ever since father died!"

"Silence!" hissed her mother "I am only trying to protect you from your father's fate!"

"Protect me?!" questioned Anara "How? By threatening me in my own home?"

"Stop this nonsense right now!" snapped her mother.

"Or what?" challenged Anara "You'll send me to my room? Well here's news for you, mother, I'm not the little girl from all those years ago that you can control! You can't slap me and yell at me until I 'behave'!"

"I can if I have to!" said her mother.

Anara laughed and asked "How? I'm an adult now, and your only shelter is here, in my home. I can kick you out with a wave of my hand and an opening of the door!"

"You wouldn't!" exclaimed her mother.

"Make me." challenged Anara.

Her mother huffed, and stormed out of the room. Once Anara could no longer here her echoing footsteps going down the hall, she sighed in relief and leaned back against her chair. She had gotten used the fights with her mother, it seemed like they were occurring on a daily basis now. She always won, since her mother had to live with her she had to respect Anara, even if it was only a little bit.

Her mother had never respected her, and she had a feeling she never would. So she lived with it, and she planned for the fights they would have and she won them every time with her quick wit and sharpened skills. Her mother had been like this from the day she and her sister had been born. You don't talk back. You never argue with adults because 'There always right, and you're always wrong'. Mistakes are unacceptable, and punishments are necessary for those who aren't perfect.

She laughed at the rules that her mother had made, because she had yet to follow one of them. Her mother's cruel way of life and thinking made her gag in the back of her mouth and she wished desperately that she didn't have to live with the old woman. She looked outside through the small window on the wall and saw that the moon was shining bright and that the stars were already showing.

She sighed and got out of the old wooden chair she had been sitting in. she walked over to the corner of the room where a long spiral staircase stood leading up to the second story of her small home. She grasped the handle of the railing and gracefully walked up. Although she was a paladin and the weight of her heavy sword strapped onto her back weighed her down slightly she still kept her elegant posture that every elf was granted with during training.

She walked up the staircase, not faltering a bit, until she came to the scarcely lit hallway that had her room. The walls were a dark red and there were small tortures every now and then upon the wall. They gave only enough light to see that the floors were made of dark oak. Anara turned left down the hallway and walked all the way to the end of it where her room was on the right. There was a large window at the end of the hallway as well, and Anara looked out at the dark landscape. She sighed, then opened her door and walked into her bedroom.

It was pitch black in her room and she fumbled around in her pocket until she grasped the match and she pulled it out. She had lived in the room for so long that she knew exactly where the candles were even in the dark. She walked forward into the dark and went over to where the first candle was, on her nightstand next to her bed. She lit the match and then lighted the candle. A dim light illuminated the room, and she could see her oak wood bed and its dark blue silk covers. Then she went over to the send candle, which was on her dresser, and lit it. Now she could see her large oak dresser. She finally went over to the last candle which was on the nightstand on the other side of the bed and lit it.

She blew out the match and disposed of it by throwing it in the tiny trashcan she kept by her door. Now that all of the candles were lit she could see the majority of her tiny room with its ghostly white walls and its oak floorboards. She sighed, and plopped down on her bed. The silk felt soft against her cheek, and she smiled. The sheets and blanket had been made in Silvermoon city, before she left, and she thought she could still smell the scent of the cities blooming flowers in them. She rubbed the silk on her cheek and closed her eyes, allowing her a moment to remember what her life had been like back then.

She imagined herself running through the streets, with her long blonde hair whipping in the wind, as she ran alongside her sister. Her sister smiled at her, and they continued to run down the street. They were young, probably barely into their teens, yet they ran like uncaring children, unaware of the danger that approached them, threatening to tear their family apart.

But they knew nothing of what fate lay ahead of them, and so they ran on, uncaringly dodging the other citizens strolling along in the street. They were occasionally yelled at if they got to close to someone, but they didn't slow down. Anara sighed, and opened her eyes. That life was long behind her, and she couldn't go back to it now. She realized that tears were welling up in her eyes, and she quickly blinked them back. She was a fighter, she didn't cry for what could have been. She had made the choice, and it was her own fault that things didn't turn out as she had wanted them too.

She shook the thoughts from her head and got up. It was nearing nine, she knew, and she was getting sleepy. She walked over to her dresser and pulled open one of the four oak drawers. She rummaged around and pulled out a long white night gown. She pulled it out and threw it onto her body. She closed the dresser drawer and began to strip down out of her bulky plate armor. She threw the armor into one of the corners in her room and grabbed for her nightgown, quickly putting it on. She sighed and walked over to her window which showed the street in front of her house.

She looked out, seeing the same things as usual. There wasn't a creature out walking and she quickly turned away and began to blow out the candles for bed. Once they were all out, she climbed into bed and pulled the covers over her tightly.

She closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to overtake her. It was going to be a busy day for her, she knew it, she could feel it, and she would need all the strength she could get to help her through the days to come.


	3. Memories of a Time Forgotten

_Blood elf_

Velectra swallowed the mead that was in her mouth and looked at the blood elf next to her. He was well muscled in the shoulders, and his skin was slightly tanned. He had long blonde hair and he wore a long red robe, which stretched down so she couldn't see his feet. She made a mental note that he was probably a mage, since he had no demon to say that he was a warlock and he didn't seem to be a priest. She also noted that he carried no weapons, which she noted as a weakness. She didn't think he was an enemy, but with her experience, she was smart enough to know not to make that mistake.

He must have seen her looking at him, because he looked at her with and eyebrow raised and asked "Looking for something?"

Velectra cursed herself for being so reckless and said "You'd wish."

"So what were you doing?" asked the man.

She turned towards him, with a smirk on her face, and said "I make sure I know my enemies' weakness's before I attack."

"Enemies?" asked the man.

She chuckled and said "Everyone is my enemy until they earn my trust. And I always plan my attacks, because I never know when I'll need to."

The man thought for a few moments then asked "May I ask you how you came to be so cautious and wary about everything?"

"You wouldn't understand." said Velectra.

"I can try." said the man.

Velectra sighed and took a sip of mead. Once she had swallowed, she turned to him and looked at him.

She sighed again and asked "Why are you so interested in my past?"

The man shrugged casually and said "I was just curious."

"Too curious if you ask me." thought Velectra, she sighed and said "It was a long time ago, back when the lich king had begun his assault on the city. I was only an apprentice rogue then, and I wasn't much use in battle. But I fought anyway, and I fought with all my strength.

"But it wasn't enough. I was fighting along with my high elf teacher, and I was unaware that the scourge member I was fighting was slowly leading me into a trap. He allowed me to back him up into a corner, where I thought I would be able to finish him. But I was wrong."

Velectra took another sip of mead, and went on "There were archers up on top of the roof tops, and I was too confident in myself to even notice them. I was about to make the fatal blow. But then, the dying man smiled and said: I led you to your doom, elf.

"Within a matter of seconds, the arrows were flying down, ready to impale me. I was preparing myself for death, for peace. But it wasn't my time, yet. My master had seen the arrows, and he rushed to my aid. But he was too late to get me out of the way, and so he jumped in front of me, and was impaled with arrows."

Velectra choked on the words, and she could feel tears clawing at her eyes, but she held them back.

"The undead I had been fighting tried to flee," she said "But I had a new strength, the strength of vengeance and grief. I killed him on the spot, without a moment's hesitation, unlike the hesitation I had given him before. I ran back to my master, whose breathing had become shallow and raspy from the blood welling up in his throat.

"He only looked at me, with the peace of death in his eyes, and he took his last breath. I had no time to mourn; the strength of vengeance ran to deep within me. I killed many undead after that, and I let them know how much I hated them."

She looked at the blood elf beside her to see his reaction, but he only nodded, seeming to be deep in thought about what she had said. She took a long drink of mead, and slowly let the tears go back into her eyes. She had already cried for the life she couldn't save, and she would not cry again. The only thing she could do for her teacher was avenge him, and kill as many of the scourge she could. If she could, she would kill the lich king, but she wasn't that strong, even with her thirst for vengeance.

She took another sip of mead, and looked at the elf beside her again. He was looking at her again, and he looked like he wanted to ask something.

She put down her mug and asked "What is it now?"

"That explains why you're so careful at planning about attacks on everyone," he said "But that doesn't explain why you're so distrustful of everyone."

Velectra sighed, he was right. That wasn't the reason why she was so distrustful.

She leaned back in her chair and began to tell another, yet shorter, story "In my time I've seen a lot of betrayal, and within my own city. The prince. Dar'khan, I had trained with him as a child, I knew him. People with in my own family! With all of the traitors I've met, I've learned to never trust anyone, not until they earn it. And I'm still wary of them even after that."

The elf nodded and went back to thinking. Velectra began to sip some mead but found that her beer jug was empty. She sighed, and motioned for the undead bartender to come towards her.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I need a refill of mead." said Velectra.

"I will be right back." Said the undead as he took her empty jug and walked off somewhere behind the counter.

"I'll be drunk every night if I continue to drink like this." thought Velectra as she sighed and leaned back in her chair.

Her hood still covered her face, and she liked the protection it gave her from other people's eyes. She doubted anyone would follow her, but it could happen, and she didn't take chances when she didn't need to.

The undead brought her back another cup of mead and she tossed him a few silver before drinking away the drink. She would need to stop drinking this much, but opening up about her past required this method, and she was just thankful that the inn had a bar. She always needed a good drink every once and a while, especially when she made that yearly trip.

She put her mug down and glanced at the elf beside her. His brow was wrinkled in thought and he was hunched over in his seat.

"What on earth is making you think so hard?" she asked.

He looked up; looking surprised at her sudden words, and said "I was just wondering about what you had said. I wasn't alive during the battle with the lich king, so I don't know about that type of betrayal. I have to say, you don't look as old as you say you are."

Velectra chuckled and said "I'd look a lot younger if I hadn't been through all of those battles. And, don't flirt with me."

She took a sip of mead and looked at the elf. He seemed to be studying her, and she raised an eyebrow. Of course, her eyes were nearly covered by her hood, so he didn't see her questioning face.

"What are you looking at?" she half snapped, half asked.

He shook his head, as if to shake some thought out of his mind, and said "Oh nothing. I'm just wondering what you look like, since I can't actually see your face."

She snorted and said "Good, because I don't want anyone to."

He raised an eyebrow and asked "Why?"

"Because," she began "I don't want anyone tracking me."

He looked even more curious and he asked "Why would anybody be tracking you?"

"Everyone has their secrets, I'd like to keep mine that way, secrets." she slid off her seat, causing her hood to fall off and her long black hair to come flowing out.

The elf stared at her in awe, and Velectra simply walked right past him, without another word being said. With her head high and her shoulders back she gracefully walked out of the room and began to ascend the stairs up to her room. By now the bar had emptied, and there was barely any noise. She would be able to get her needed sleep, and hopefully not get a hangover the following morning. She had always known undead mead to be quite strong.

She stepped off the final step and into the main hallway. She pulled her key from her pocket as she neared the door and began to tumble around with the lock. She opened it quickly and the door creaked open to reveal the dimly lit room she currently called home. She was tired, and almost drunk, and all she wanted to do was sleep. She locked the door behind her, throwing the key onto the dresser, and went over to her bag which was next to the dresser.

She pulled out a soft silk white night gown and threw it onto her bed. She began to strip down out of her armor, throwing it into a pile by her bag, and quickly retrieved the nightgown and slipped it on over her bare pale skin. Once she was ready for bed she went over to the candle in her window sill and blew it out, then climbed into bed, finally relaxed as sleep claimed her weary soul.

_High Elf_

There was the thundering of horses in Anara's dream as she rode along on her midnight black thallasian warhorse. She was laughing, not because something was funny, but because of her happiness. She was riding along through the forest of Eversong, with her bow in hand as she looked for prey. But she really wasn't worried about catching prey; she was spending time with her sister who was riding along side of her. She looked over to see her sister's high elven light blonde hair flowing in the wind.

Her sister looked at her and smiled, obviously just as happy as Anara. Anara looked up to see that it was nighttime, and that the stars were shining so bright that they looked like fire. She looked ahead of them, and nearly skidded to a stop. In front of them was a raging fire, where undead and high elves fought to their deaths. High elves and undead were lost, but Anara could tell that her people were losing.

Anara looked to her side for her sister, but saw that she had all but disappeared. She looked around, desperately trying to find her sister, but to no avail. She was nowhere in sight, and Anara feared the worst had come. Suddenly the undead were upon her, obviously having run out of high elves to kill. She turned, but they were coming that way too. Everywhere she turned they were coming, and her horse reared up on its haunches and smashed its hooves into one of the abominations. But there was no stopping the inevitable.

Suddenly Anara awoke in her bed, sweating heavily and panting for breath. Her breathing began to slow as she realized where she was and the whole thing had just been a horrid nightmare. She stopped gasping and sat up in her bed, still sweaty from her horrid dream. She had been having that dream before, but it was never so vivid or so violent.

As her heart slowed to a steady beat, she shakily got out of bed and went over to her dresser. She retrieved a match from the top of it and began to light the candles with it. Once she was done, and the room was dimly lit, she blew out the match and threw it in the trash before climbing onto her bed.

She did the same thing she did every time she had the dream, which was beginning to become more and more frequent. She guessed it was because of the occasion that was approaching, but she wasn't completely sure.

She had a small shelf on the wall above her bed, where she kept her most precious books. She sat up on her knees and began to look through them for the one she needed. She had old stories from her days as a child, old journals from her travels, and countless others. But all of them were somehow attached to Anara, and she kept them close to her for comfort.

She finally found the book she wanted; an old leather bound book, worn and dusty with age. But it was her most prized of all the books, and she carefully slid it out of its place on the shelf.

She blew some of the dust off the top, but it was still pretty dirty. Its pages were lined with gold paint, and it was Anara's favorite. It held many special memories for her, memories of when the world was right and when her family was whole.

She opened up the front cover, making a wave of dust wash out. She coughed slightly, but quickly recovered after waving the dust out of her face. This book had belonged to her as a young child, it was a journal, and she had written many of her memories in it. She had been given it on her eighth birthday by her father, and she had written in it until the scourge came.

She shuddered at the thought of the scourge. They had burned down her old home, and her father with it, and she had lost many valuable memories to their wrath. She had been young when the scourge had come, only an apprentice paladin, but after seeing her own home burned down she thought like a true paladin. She had killed many of them, but no matter how many lives she had taken there were always more coming, her strength was never enough.

All she could remember that day were the wailing cry of her brethren as they fell to the ground, dead at the spot. No amount of strength could have stopped them that day, but still they fought on. Anara admired the courage of those who had lost their lives that day, they fought not for revenge like she had but to protect their home and their people, something she would honor for the rest of her life.

She flipped to the first page of her journal, her very first entry. It was written in script, and her hand writing was hard to read, but she could tell what the majority of it meant. It told of her birthday and of how happy she was to have gotten the journal. It read:

_Today is my eighth birthday, and I am very happy with all of gifts. I'm so happy that father gave me this journal; the gold lined pages make me feel like a princess. I was given a necklace, an emerald one, from my aunt, but mother took it away, she said I wasn't old enough to take care of it properly. I know what she really meant, though. _

_Sister got some nice things too- she got a ruby necklace, but mother took that away too. Father yelled at her, but she wouldn't change her mind. They fight, but they always stop eventually. _

Anara flipped the page. The memory of her eighth birthday had not been the most pleasant, and she clutched the emerald that hung from her throat. Her mother had taken their necklaces, but their father had taken them back when their mother wasn't there, and so now she had it. And she hoped that her sister had hers.

She flipped through the book until she came to one of her favorite entries. It was made when she was thirteen, and they were permitted to go to the grand ball in the city. There was one held every year, and you weren't allowed to go until you were of age. But that was the first time she and her sister had been allowed to go.

She remembered the night like it had happened only seconds ago. She remembered wearing a sapphire blue dress, and her sister had worn a deep ruby red dress. Her sister was never one for the brighter colors; she always stuck to blacks and reds. Anara could remember dancing, and music, and everything wonderful. She could remember the high elven king, Anasterian, sitting next to his son, Prince Kael'thas, on two chairs watching over the ball. The ball had been held in the palace, in a beautiful large room with a dome shaped glass ceiling so that you could see the stars at night and the sun in the day. The page read:

_What a glorious night it has been! My first dance, a royal dance, it was wonderful! There was dancing, and music, and delicious food, Velectra even danced with the prince! She was shocked, very shocked, and her cheeks were cherry red! But I can tell she had a wonderful time, I wonder if she'll be queen? Probably not, Velectra doesn't want that life. She wants to become a master rogue and go on adventures. I just want to stay at home, guard the city maybe._

_The ball was just so wonderful! Everyone wore beautiful dresses and suits, and they played the violin, my favorite, and they had sunwell delight! And to think that I will be going to these dances once a year! I'm so excited, I wonder if Velectra is too._

Anara sighed, and closed the book. She wanted to read every singled memory and savor it forever, but she couldn't. Memories were just that, memories. Things of the past that were never going to happen again, and she had to let go of them, or else she would be destroying herself.

She had learned to forget them, to let go, but it still hurt. She wanted her memories to come back to her, to have her old life return. But she knew that could never be, and she could blame no one but herself for how things ended up. She would never truly let go of her past and what should have been, but she would let it go a little bit, and still hang into it.

She was surprised at how fast her mother was able to let go of everything that had happened to them before. It was as if nothing had ever happened to her, as if the memories they had never even happened.

Anara sighed; she expected nothing else from her mother. She didn't love any of them, and she knew it. She closed the book and put it back on its place on the shelf, and got up to blow out the candles. Once they were all out, she climbed into bed and pulled the sheets close to her, hoping that she would not have another troubled dream, and that she would be able to get through the day to come.


End file.
